


Warning: This Romanian Contains Strong Language

by KareliaSweet



Series: Instruction Manual [2]
Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Botched Furniture Assembly, Language, M/M, Spacedogs Appreciation Week, Swearing, lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 14:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6083520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KareliaSweet/pseuds/KareliaSweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam reveals a newly developed kink, and it's something Nigel is really good at.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warning: This Romanian Contains Strong Language

“FUCK!”

Adam hears the crash and the curse simultaneously and bolts upright in bed.

“Fucking piece of fucking – _fuck_!”

A staggered clatter, like something broken being kicked repeatedly, echoes through the walls.

“Fuck! This! And Fuck! _You_!”

Each word is enunciated with another kick, another violent shatter. The kicking and swearing continues in earnest until the scattering sound of dismantled wood and metal and plastic is replaced with a dull thud. Nigel’s boot hitting the wall. Adam winces. That must have hurt.

“Fuuuuuuuck!”

Sighing, Adam slides out of bed and tugs on a worn bathrobe, treading barefoot to his front door and grabbing his keys off the hook. Exiting and locking the door behind him, he makes the two-foot trek to his neighbor-slash-boyfriend’s door and knocks once sharply.

The door opens in a flash to reveal Nigel, panting and shirtless, little beads of sweat at his temple. He leans on the doorjamb, favouring his weight on his left side to avoid further strain on his self-beaten foot.

“Hi, baby,” he says, licking his lips, “you look fucking gorgeous.”

He draws out the fricative and rubs his thumb on the edge of the door.

Adam folds his arms over his chest.

“You’re being very loud,” he says to the tongue that rests on the edge of Nigel’s teeth.

Nigel just smiles, pressing those same teeth briefly to the swell of his lower lip.

“Sorry, darling.” He sways forward a little, watches Adam’s eyes fix on the dusting of curls on his chest.

“I was putting this fucking chair together and everything fucking came apart. Made a fucking mess.”

He gestures over his shoulder to the mess in the living room behind him, to the smithereens of what may or may not have once been some kind of chair. All that remains is a half of a splintered leg that against all odds remains wobbly but upright amid the carnage.

Adam keeps his eyes on the wreck and not on Nigel, who is keenly watching him with decidedly hungry eyes. Adam can feel the flush creeping up his chest and tickling his cheeks. He opens his mouth to speak, and at the same moment the chair leg gives up the ghost and clatters to the floor, splitting in two for good measure.

Nigel closes his eyes and exhales sharply through his nose, doesn’t bother to look behind him.

“Well, _fuck_.”

Adam shivers.

“You cold, baby?” He curls his fingers around the door and pulls it open wide. “Wanna come in?”

Adam stares at the floor, tries to keep his mouth from curving in amusement.

“I know what you’re trying to do, Nigel.”

“Oh?” Nigel reaches out with his free hand, tucks a knuckle under Adam’s chin.

“Is it fucking working, then?”

Adam looks up at him from underneath long, sooty lashes. His smile grows wide and he licks one ripe lip into his beautiful mouth. Nigel forgets how to breathe.

“Yes.”

 

**_Earlier…_ **

“Fucking where is my fucking phone, darling?”

Adam doesn’t look up from his book, turns another page quietly.

“It’s on the kitchen counter.”

“No it’s fucking not.”

Nigel paces from room to room, rubbing the back of his neck and muttering quiet curses. Adam continues reading intently.

“Did you check your pocket?”

Nigel huffs. “Of course I checked my fucking pocket, it’s not – oh.” He laughs as he pulls the missing phone from the back pocket of his jeans. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“My fucking hero,” he coos, almost skipping to the couch to kiss Adam’s forehead.

Adam frowns a little, turns another page.

“You’re not an idiot,” he says without looking up, “but could you please stop swearing so much?”

Nigel musses at his hair and flops himself on the armchair next to him, legs dangling over the side and absently kicking.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m a bad, rude man.” He quirks his head thoughtfully, almost contrite. “Didn’t know it offended you that much.”

“It doesn’t,” Adam says into his book, “but when you swear I get aroused and I’m trying to finish this book. It’s very distracting.”

Nigel stops kicking at the chair, stops doing anything at all really. He’s pretty sure his heart has stopped beating.

“You… you fucking what?”

Adam looks up briefly. Nigel is white as a sheet.

“What?”

With difficulty, Nigel slides his boneless legs sideways until they reach the floor. He sits, elbows to his knees, scrubbing a hand over his stubble as he processes.

“When I say ‘fuck’, it turns you on?”

Adam purses his lips, nods. “Yes. It’s less about the word, and more the way you say it, but I’ve grown used to it, it sounds nice to me. And anyway, you say it all the time when we have sex, it’s only natural for me to develop a chemical reaction to it. I don’t normally mind, but right now I’m trying to finish my book.”

For once in his life, Nigel is absolutely fucking speechless. He swallows hard and a dry click issues from his throat. Everything suddenly looks fuzzy, except for Adam, who is currently surrounded by a golden fucking halo of light and he has no fucking clue.

“B-” Nigel starts, voice low and scratchy, “baby, I fucking-”

Adam looks up in warning, and the knowledge behind it sends a bolt of lust straight to Nigel’s cock. It hits him so hard he jolts upright in his chair. In the next instant he is kneeling beside Adam, pressing a thumb to his cheekbone and descending to lay a series of wet kisses along his hairline. Adam yields for a moment and Nigel continues his gentle attack lower, but when Nigel’s free hand slips between his thighs, he squirms.

“Nigel, not right now,” he says patiently, holding the book up as a makeshift shield.

Nigel keens softly, the tips of his fingers soveryclose to the bulge in Adam’s trousers.

“But baby,” he whines, “I can feel how fucking hard you are for me.”

Adam’s cock jumps a little under the cotton and Nigel outright moans.

“Oh, fuck,” he says softly, reaching forward to get a firmer grip. He is rewarded with a firm slap from the spine of the book as Adam bats him away.

“No,” he says succinctly, and Nigel is enough of a gentleman to listen, as much as it pains him – and it really fucking pains him. Adam just looks up at him with those beautiful seafoam eyes and gives him a little smile.

“Later,” he offers, and returns to his book.

 

**_Later…_ **

“Yes.”

It’s not certain who grabs at whom first, but it doesn’t really matter. Adam is scooped up into Nigel’s arms in a matter of nanoseconds, legs wrapped tight around his waist as Nigel slams the front door nearly off its hinges and carries him towards the bedroom.

Every other step puts pressure on his injured foot and he mutters a soft ‘fuck’ each time, which is rewarded with a sharp grind of Adam’s hips against him and a quiet little moan. Nigel grins as he kisses into his mouth, nipping at those beautiful plush lips and near-purring with glee.

“Like it when I fucking swear, do you darling? I’ll fucking swear for you until you cum in your pants.”

He licks a damp stripe up Adam’s throat, sucking at an old love bite to flush it with new colour. Adam rubs against him and kisses the side of his face, his jaw.

“I’d rather come in your hand,” he says plainly, and Nigel’s knees buckle. Adam has no idea how good at dirty talk he is, but he is a natural fucking champion.

Nigel shoves the robe off his shoulders, grazing his teeth over the little freckles sprinkled there.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs, and Adam’s cock jumps against his stomach.

“Oh baby, I can’t wait to fuck you.”

He near tears the rest of Adam’s clothes from him, tossing him to the bed and shedding his own boxers as he goes. Adam is writhing against the sheets, hips thrusting and kiss-swollen lips caught between his teeth. Beautiful, utterly carnal, pliant and ready to be fucked.

And entirely Nigel’s.

Stepping out of his boxers, cock in hand, Nigel watches in unguarded awe.

“You want me to fuck you don’t you darling.”

Adam nods, moans, turns himself onto his stomach so he can thrust against the mattress.

“Please,” he whines.

Nigel kneels on the bed behind him, palming the swell of each perfectly round cheek.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “I’m gonna put my cock so deep in your ass-”

Adam immediately stops his pleasant squirming. “No,” he says.

“No?”

“No.” He flips himself back over, still hard but decidedly less addled. “That doesn’t arouse me. The – the word ‘cock’.” He scrunches his nose like the word tastes bitter.

Nigel arches an eyebrow. “It doesn’t?”

Adam shakes his head, curls scattering. “It’s the way you say ‘fuck’.” He lowers his voice to barely a whisper. “That’s what I like.”

Nigel chuckles low and drapes himself over Adam’s body. “Oh darling,” he purrs, “I can fucking work with that.”

He kisses him then, deep and wet, tongues sliding messy as Adam clings to his back, his neck, his arms. Working his hips in lazy thrusts that occasionally brush their lengths together, he sighs his pleasure into Adam’s mouth.

“Fucking beautiful,” he praises, “my fucking darling,” Adam makes a glorious pitchy sound, cheeks ruddy and forehead beading with sweat. Nigel has never seem him look quite so lost, so overcome.

“Look at you,” he says, rapt, “fucking look at you.”

He brings a hand between them to wrap around Adam, flushed pink and hard. He groans and bucks his hips.

“You’re fucking blooming for me, baby.” He strokes firm but slow, rubbing his thumb across the head as Adam thrusts insistently into his fingers. “Like a fucking flower, you are. Fuck, I lo-”

The words are there on the tip of his tongue, but they are swept away by the vision in front of him. Adam, grasping at the sheets beneath, fingers scrabbling and finding no purpose, knees spread wide and cock slipping in Nigel’s fist.

“Feels so good… Nigel…”

Christ, he fucking loves him.

“Can I fuck you now, baby? Please,” he begs, “let me fuck you, Adam.”

In answer, Adam’s hand is already between his cheeks. He starts to open himself with a finger, eyes hooded, the gaze underneath it raw. Nigel swears in languages he’d forgotten he knew, scoots himself down the bed and hooks Adam’s legs over his shoulders.

“Let me,” he says, sucking two fingers into his mouth, coating them slick before replacing Adam’s own. He works him gently, marveling at how hot and tight he is, how beautiful, how fucking perfect. He crooks his fingers up, finding Adam’s prostate and stroking firm, marveling at the blissed-out tears that leak from his eyes.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he says for the thousandth time that evening, and it is a prayer and a laying down of arms all at once. Adam fucking Raki is writhing under him, calling out his name like it’s a beacon and turned on by his filthy fucking mouth.

“What did I fucking do,” he mutters to himself, “to deserve this.”

Adam is currently spiraling apart under his fingers, entirely flushed and spilling over with need. He looks positively wrecked and Nigel isn’t even inside him yet. He reaches over the bedside for the lube, spreads some over himself and a generous amount over Adam’s opening for good measure. Normally they would take their time, Nigel would prepare him with fingers and tongue, content to lap between his thighs until he was thoroughly pliant.

Tonight, however…

“Christ, Adam, I can’t fucking-” He grips firm at the base of his cock, gritting his teeth. He could come just from the sight of this. “I need-”

Adam is fucking himself onto Nigel’s fingers, curls matted to his forehead with sweat. He nods, answering the question that Nigel is too melted-out to pose.

“Yes,” he cries, “please. Please fuck me, Nigel.”

Oh, fuck, now he’s swearing too.

It’s a miracle that Nigel manages to wrestle the condom on without passing out, he holds out little hope for himself once he’s seated inside that snug, delicious warmth.

“You fucking sure?” he asks.

His answer is Adam’s searching hand reaching for his painfully hard cock. Fogged with lust, it’s hard for the younger man to find a firm grip, but he manages to circle the tip with thumb and index finger, roll the foreskin back, poke his tongue out from between his lips.

It’s answer enough.

Nigel slips his fingers free and drags himself to his knees. Cock in hand, he guides himself to Adam’s entrance. Adam hooks his legs around Nigel’s waist, heels digging into his lower back.

Just barely breaching, Nigel reaches low, brushes a kiss over his panting mouth.

“I’m going to fuck you now, my darling.” And then he is inside.

Adam makes a low, wild near-animal sound, and Nigel growls feral in return. He sinks in slowly, inch by inch, Adam’s heat sucking him in and dragging him down, down down.

“Fuck,” he shakes his head, blinking madly, but it doesn’t matter, he’s already gone fucking blind. Adam wraps sweat-sticky arms around him, pulling him in, letting him reach deeper and deeper. Nigel presses kisses to Adam’s brow, the corona of his hair, the corner of his gorgeous fucking mouth.

It’s never been like this. Man, woman, anyone, anywhere, no one has thoroughly destroyed him as much as Adam fucking Raki.

No one has cared enough to build him right the fuck back up again.

He tells him so, with muddled words and jerky thrusts that slowly become steadier as Adam grounds him. Tells him how fucking special, how fucking lovely, how fucking loved he is, and he watches as his fucking flower blooms open, petal by petal unfurling just for him.

“Nigel,” he gasps. It’s the only word he’s been able to keep a steady hold on and it sounds like a fucking beacon. “Nigel, I-”

Nigel kisses him silent. Not because he doesn’t want to hear the words that might spring forth, but because he’s afraid to fucking death that if he does he’ll lose it completely, and he’s not ready yet, not now. Later, when they’re sated and the room is quiet with afterglow, he’ll say it again and again and again and if Adam decides he wants to say it too he’ll try his very best not to cry. For right now, he can’t do anything to stop the tears that are tracking across his face, Adam just feels –

“So fucking good. So fucking perfect, darling, my bloom, my fucking petal.”

His thrusts begin to pick up speed, but he shallows them out, striking against the spot inside Adam he knows by heart.

He maps out a web of messy kisses over his mouth and jaw. “Fucking mine, baby.”

Adam nods dreamily, bucks his hips up hard in assent. “ _Yes_ , Nigel.”

He feels Adam reach his own hand between them to touch himself, and he tsks lightly.

“Let me fucking take care of you, petal.”

Nigel drops to his elbows, one hand framing Adam’s face, which turns blindly to press open-mouthed kisses against his palm. With his free hand he begins to stroke Adam’s cock, gliding his hand up with each thrust inside him.

“Oh, darling,” he murmurs into his skin, “I want to make you fucking cum. So fucking hard, baby, will you cum for me?”

Adam’s eyes snap open and he yelps out a strangled cry.

“Nnggh – Nigel!”

His Adam, his lovely Adam, ever obedient, ever beautiful, spills hot and copious over his hand. His orgasm rips through him with such violence that his whole body pulls taut as a bowstring, clenching so hard around Nigel’s cock that it tears his own climax from him without warning. He yells hoarsely, seating himself deep and tight as Adam clings to him and he clutches back just as fierce.

“Fuck! _Fuck_ , Adam, FUCK!”

The last expletive pulls a final pulse from the man beneath him before they both collapse, boneless and dazed. Nigel kisses him full on the lips, searching out with his tongue and licking purposefully into his mouth. Adam clutches weak fingers in his hair and echoes his passion back to him.

He loosens the lock of his legs around Nigel’s hips and lets them slip back to the bed, arms still ringed about his neck. Adam nuzzles along his pulse and smiles, dropping another kiss and licking the salt from his throat.

“I didn’t know it would elicit that strong of a reaction from me,” he remarks, pleased, “but I definitely think we should do that again.”

Nigel just grunts.

“But maybe,” Adam says, “don’t use making a chair in the middle of the night as an excuse next time. I could have helped you make it, and then you would have had a new chair _and_ we could have had sex after.”

“We still had sex, petal.”

Adam sighs with resigned fondness. “This is another one of your nicknames for me, isn’t it? I don’t understand how you come up with them, especially in the middle of sex when you’re not really compos mentis, but I guess I can-”

“I love you,” Nigel says, and purposefully doesn’t swear.

Adam blinks owlishly, processes the data.

“Couples often make proclamations of love mid or post coitus, it’s completely normal. A rush of endorphins and oxytocin make the brain-”

“Adam, shut the fuck up.”

He draws a thumb over Adam’s pouting bottom lip.

“I love you. Without sex, I fucking love you.”

He keeps stroking Adam’s mouth, both to keep him from speaking and because it’s really hard to resist.

“And you don’t have to say it back out of fucking social obligation or whatever you call it, darling. You don’t have to say it ever. But I fucking love you. I love you enough for the both of us.”

Adam smiles, kisses his thumb.

“Nigel,” he says fondly, pushing the hair from his eyes. His smile is warm and kind and perfect.

“I fucking love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> More fucking ridiculousness [on tumblr](http://lovecrimevariations.tumblr.com/)


End file.
